“There lies your one chance.”
“And you think that if I had not admitted the fact of exchange, it would have been proved against me?”
“Certainly, baron. Since you recalled writing a letter to Monsieur de Cadanet, I can see how Lemaire got upon your track. If you had denied, the letter would have been produced. Now they will keep it back because, as you admit the fact, it would tell in your favour. I shall call for it.”
“It was my wife who urged speaking out.”
“And she showed her sense. Women’s intuitions are generally to be trusted when they don’t go too far,” said Maître Barraud, carelessly.
In spite of his opinion, he expressed extreme impatience when M. Rodoin, on the morning of the third day, asked whether he could give a few minutes to Mme. de Beaudrillart.
“Certainly not. I know exactly the sort, of questions I should have to answer: Is the trial going for or against? Have the jury made up their minds? Might she not stand up and bear witness to the perfect probity of her beloved husband? Console Madame de Beaudrillart yourself; the task of defending monsieur is quite as much as I desire to undertake.”
“Please yourself, my dear Albert,” said M. Rodoin, quietly. “You know very well that Madame Léon is not the silly woman you pretend. If you will not listen to her, you must listen to me; but the idea was her own. She wondered whether it would be possible for her to make a personal appeal to Madame Lemaire?”
“On what ground?” Maître Barraud shot out the words after a moment’s consideration.
“All our investigations point to the fact that it is an unhappy marriage, and that Lemaire neglects, if he does not ill-use, his wife.”